


Two Knocks On A Cedar Door

by kalonscounter (SeaCollides)



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaCollides/pseuds/kalonscounter
Summary: There are two knocks on the cedar door belonging to Cyan's house.Something's off about Black's visit, and the coffee's going cold.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Black/Cyan (Among Us)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Two Knocks On A Cedar Door

**Author's Note:**

> I adivse you not to read this if you are in a fragile state of mind. Please call a suicide hotline/reach out to someone if you need to.
> 
> Please heed the tags... I don't want to trigger anyone.
> 
> This is sort-of an old vent cleaned up to post; I'm doing okay, I promise. 
> 
> Once again, _please_ make sure you sort-of know what you're getting into. This deals with a vaguely-mentioned traumatic-ish memory and a hallucination over someone who's committed suicide.

There are two knocks on the cedar door belonging to Cyan’s painfully normal house wedged between the rolling summer hills. 

Cyan goes to answer it, head hanging low. He nudges open the door.

No one’s behind it. The wind chimes dangling over the front porch jingle softly as the morning breeze agitates them, sending the silver pieces gently colliding into one another.

A cat meows beneath Cyan’s feet. He looks down in shock. Fur as dark as the night, backside dappled with shades of gray, the beautiful coat sent a stab of memories through Cyan’s heart. He leans down and strokes its head. 

“Black,” he sighs into the wind. “I’m seeing ghosts.”

The wind says nothing back, but the cat purrs and winds itself around Cyan’s leg. 

He imagines Black’s tall silhouette next to him. He would’ve swept up the cat in one go, fussing over the poor thing while it scratches and claws at Black, and Black himself would have laughed it off as he presses a kiss into the cat’s side.

Cyan blinks. 

Once, twice.

Black’s standing in front of him now, leaning against the porch frame. The chimes are silent. The wind is no longer tousling Cyan’s hair.

 _Cyan_ , Black greets. _It’s been a while._

“Where have you been?" is the only reply Cyan can utter right now.

 _Sorry_ , Black laughs. _I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?_

Cyan keeps his eyes on Black, afraid that he’ll disappear if he glances away for even the slightest of seconds. He attempts to shoo the cat from his porch, but fails. The cat curls up on the ground, lazing around in a patch of sunlight warming the wooden floor. 

Cyan leaves it be to invite Black in for a chat and perhaps a cup of coffee. 

He looks exactly how Cyan remembers. Tall, dark hair, glittering onyx eyes, and a permanent air of melancholy surrounding him, his mind too old for his body.

Cyan still remembers how Black likes his coffee.

He begins to make it.

“Where were you this entire time?”

The question slips past his mouth far too easily, like a well-practiced line to perform for a play. Cyan turns to face Black, expecting an answer. 

He’s lounging on Cyan’s sofa, leaning back against the light blue cushions decorating the khaki surface.

 _I’ve been wandering around_ , Black says, twirling a lock of his hair. _I’ve met many different people. Lime has encountered me. That was one time- and it was a very brief passing._

“I’m glad Lime upheld his promise,” Cyan exhales, his relief evident in his voice. “He promised to visit you, but I don’t know if he ever did.”

 _Oh, he did!_ Black nods, now sitting upright. _He looked very sad._

“We all were sad when you died,” is Cyan’s breathy mumble.

 _I’m sure you were._ Black hums, not paying much attention. _You especially._

Cyan chuckles half-heartedly. “Yeah, me especially,” he heaves. “It hit the hardest for me. The others…”

_They didn’t care, right?_

Cyan flinches, nearly knocking the coffee maker over. “N-no! Why would you think that?!”

Black shrugs, the motion slow and uncaring- exactly like a ghost who’s moved on.

_It was obvious that they never actually cared for me. I was an oddball._

A defensive tone is prickling up in Cyan’s voice. “You were not!”

Black gives Cyan a weary look. _Don’t try to argue with me, Cyan. You can’t defend me from myself._

Cyan recoils a bit. “I wasn’t trying to-”

He snaps his mouth shut. Black creases his eyebrows, but he’s smirking. Just a teensy bit. 

“Never mind that,” Cyan huffs. “Come on, your coffee’s almost ready.”

Two dollops of milk, and a dash of cinnamon. It’s how Black likes it, back when he was alive. An odd choice, but it’s Black. Black was always odd. 

_Thank you_ , Black breathes, _you can put it on the table._

Cyan complies. 

_I always took your kindness for granted_ , Black laments as he shifts on the couch. _I’m sorry._

“You never did,” Cyan mumbles as he sips on his own mug of coffee, biting back the hot sting burning through his tongue. 

_Liar. You were kind to me. I pushed you away._

“It’s not your fault.”

_It is._

“You were going through a rough time.”

_That doesn’t excuse my attitude towards you. Cyan, please accept my apology._

Cyan puts his own mug down. “There’s no apology to be accepted. Come on, Black. Just let it go already.”

Silence. 

Cyan blinks. Black is still where he sits, unmoving, similar to a statue. 

_That’s hypocritical of you to say_ , Black finally answers.

Cyan’s far too aware of Black’s lifeless gaze turning to face him. 

The coffee stinks of bitter blood. 

Black’s eyes drip into a mess of ink, trickling down his gaunt face like he’s been crying for hours on end. Flecks of white and ebony run through his empty sockets where his eyeballs used to be. Rope burn makes itself home on Black’s neck, the bright red marks contrasting against his pale skin.

Cyan stumbles. The haunting sound of a door opening followed by the straining of rope pours into his ears like tar, drowning out any other noise. He feels the heat of a roaring blaze as a body gets incinerated until there's nothing left, save the clattering of metal trays and the muttering of workers. The burnt smell of a corpse permeates the air- there’s a phantom feeling of a heavy satin bag of ash around Cyan’s waist.

_Wake up._

Cyan’s shaking where he stands. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off Black’s withering carcass.

_WAKE UP._

Black’s saying words he can’t hear. The smell of day-old beer cans and bittersweet memories of better times clouds his senses-

_CYAN._

-and Black is gone, leaving no trace behind him.

There’s no evidence of his quick visit. Cyan’s notices that he isn’t dreaming this time. 

And with that, he bolts from the room. 

The cup of coffee (with two dollops of milk and a dash of cinnamon, _just how Black likes it,_ ) is still on the table.

It’s full. It smells of blood, burning bones, and an age-old memory far too acrid to swallow.

No one will drink it. 

It rots like the faded silhouette of Black’s presence, frayed around the edges. 

Unless another two knocks sound on the cedar door, the cup will forever stay unmoved.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Check my [writing carrd](https://seacollideswriting.carrd.co/) to learn about my updates, ideas, progress, etc. if you'd like.
> 
> Comments are very appreciated :') Kudos make me super happy too.


End file.
